Alfred was currently sitting on a chair in the kitchen, his hands zip-tied behind his back. It had been pitifully easy to subdue him, which had almost been a letdown. He was of average height for a man, around five-nine, and skinny, and it was obvious he spent more time drinking than working out. His beer belly stuck out from his slight frame. The asshole hadn’t even tried to defend himself when he’d realized his house had been broken into.
Martin had alternated between hitting and slicing the man, trying to get information out of him. But he was either too stupid or too stubborn to tell them what they wanted to know.
Lloyd was done fucking around. It had been fun to mess with the guy at first, but now he was impatient to get this over with and be on his way.
He walked behind Alfred and roughly cut through the plastic tie holding the man to the chair, but didn’t release his hands. Ignoring Alfred’s cry of pain, Lloyd pushed him to his knees on the hard tile floor, then kicked him so he fell over onto his side.
He knelt next to the man, who was crying uncontrollably now, and sliced through his sweatpants, leaving him naked.
“Tell me where your ex is,” he asked one more time. “You don’t even like her. She’s a dumb bitch; why are you prolonging this?”
“My son,” Alfred said on a gasp.
“I’m not going to kill your son,” Lloyd said honestly. He could literally see the man’s mind spinning as he took in his words. “I don’t give a shit about Mario,” Lloyd lied. “All I care about is Cassidy. So tell me where she is so this can stop.”
It was pathetic that Alfred was attempting to protect his son now. Too little, too late, as far as Lloyd was concerned. If some bitch had tried to take his son out of the country, he wouldn’t have allowed it.
“I don’t know exactly where she is,” Alfred said slowly.
Lloyd stood up and nodded at Martin. The other man smiled and leaned down, holding his knife against Alfred’s cock, pressing the tip into the head until a bead of blood bloomed.
Alfred howled in pain, but with his arms still tied behind his back, he couldn’t do a damn thing about the knife at his junk.
“Tell me right now where she is, or I’ll have Martin cut your dick off and shove it up your ass,” Lloyd threatened.
“Indianapolis!” Alfred shouted without hesitation.
Pleasure swam through Lloyd’s veins.
“Where in Indianapolis? We need more than that. We need an address.”
“I don’t know!” Alfred gasped, tears streaming down his face and snot running from his nose. “She called to tell me she was back in the States, but that’s all she said!”
Martin shook his head. “Not good enough, man.” He moved his knife to one of Alfred’s balls.
Lloyd kicked Alfred in the stomach, and he gagged, then fell backward, trying to get away from him. Lloyd wrapped a hand around the man’s neck and leaned closer. “Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll let you live. How can we find her?”
Alfred, pussy that he was, stared at Lloyd with wide eyes, tears still falling. He looked pathetic. His face was blotchy, and he wheezed, trying to breathe through the tight hold on his throat. Lloyd had heard a few stories about the man’s abuse of Cassidy, making him think he’d be easy to break, since the guy seemingly had little love for his ex. But he’d held out a lot longer than Lloyd would’ve guessed. Which didn’t mean he respected him at all. He was still going to die.
“Silverstone Towing,” he croaked.
Lloyd was giving him just enough air to speak. “What about it?” he asked.
“New boyfriend . . . works there.”
So the bitch had already found a boyfriend, had she? No doubt she was opening her legs wide, giving him everything she’d refused to give Lloyd in Jamaica.
Well, she’d learn what a real man felt like before he sliced her throat.
Smiling evilly down at the man, Lloyd tightened his hands. He pressed his thumbs into his throat and watched as Alfred realized he had no intention of letting go. Lloyd had everything he needed to find the bitch and her son.
“Can I cut it off?” Martin asked a little too eagerly.
“Don’t give a shit,” Lloyd said, keeping his gaze locked on Alfred’s. “She’s gonna die,” he told him. “I didn’t lie—your son will live, but I’ll be taking him back to Jamaica. Teaching him how to kill . . . and how to love it the way I do.”
Alfred tried to talk, but he couldn’t get any air into his lungs.
It was thrilling as hell to see the anguish in his eyes. He may not have seen his son in the last five years, but he obviously didn’t like Lloyd’s plans for him. If Alfred was this affected, Cassidy would lose her fucking mind.
Satisfaction and anticipation raced through Lloyd’s veins. He couldn’t wait for it to be Cassidy under his hands. Until he could inform her of her son’s fate. She’d die knowing that she’d done that to her son. That it was her fault.
Alfred jerked under him, and his eyes went even wider.
“Fuck, I love it when they gush!” Martin exclaimed.
Lloyd glanced up to see Martin holding Alfred’s dick in the air. He turned back to look at Alfred’s face and watched the life fading from his eyes. He lifted his hands and stood up.
“Go on,” he told Martin. “Have your fun.”
The other man grinned, dropped Alfred’s dick, and fell on him like a man possessed.
Lloyd backed up and watched as Martin stabbed Cassidy’s ex over and over. Even after Alfred was obviously dead, Martin continued to plunge the knife into his body.
Breathing hard several minutes later, Martin finally stood, his dark hair hanging over his eyes.
“Done?” Lloyd asked dryly.
In response, Martin pulled back his leg and kicked the man in the side of the head as hard as he could. Then he nodded and looked at Lloyd. “Done.”
“Good. Silverstone Towing in Indianapolis. We got what we came for. We’ll be headed home with our new recruit soon,” Lloyd said.
The two men headed for the nearby door. Lloyd took a look back at the kitchen before he walked out of the room. The chair Alfred had been sitting in was on its side, and the walls were literally covered in blood. A pool of red was forming under Alfred’s body.
It didn’t matter if the cops found their DNA or fingerprints or footprints at the scene. They weren’t in any American criminal databases. They didn’t live here, and there would be no connection between them and the asshole on the floor. It might take one day, or several, before Alfred’s body was found, but it wouldn’t matter. Lloyd would be on his way back to Jamaica with Mario.
Satisfied that he and Martin had done what they’d come to do, he followed his partner and walked out of the house. He had no other thoughts beyond getting back to their motel without anyone seeing them, cleaning up, getting to the private airfield, and then flying to Indiana and finding this Silverstone Towing place.
We’re coming for you, Cassidy. I hope you’re ready, he thought with a small smile.
Lloyd sat back in the shitty sedan they’d stolen off the street and glared at the garage he and Martin had been casing for the last day. It was their only lead on where the bitch might be. Now he was beginning to think they’d killed the ex too fast. Maybe he’d lied; maybe Cassidy had broken up with her new boyfriend. Maybe they had the wrong city or misunderstood the name of the business.